Inevitable
by Indigo-Typhoon
Summary: FINALLY COMPLETE! After 4000 years a realtionship will change. It's inevitable. SPOILER WARNING! There are spoilers throughout this story, s don't read it if you son't like them. Yuan POV


_A/N: Wow, I'm FINALLY updating this. It's complete now so anyone who waited for the next part, Thank You. Possible slightly OOC. Rated for language, and suggestions of abusive behaviour. In case you didn't guess, Shonen-ai._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia or related characters. Yuan's theories about expheres aren't canon. I just made them up and added them for flavour and because I thought they made a kind of sense. Also, except Botta, none of the renegades mentioned are real characters. Some of them I made up with the help of a close friend of mine._

_Inevitable_

_A Tales of Symphonia Fanfic_

_By Indigo-Typhoon_

_Year 0000. In which the Kharlan War has finally ended._

I should be happy. A war that lasted a thousand years is finally over. Not that I was around for most of it. Still, I'm going to be around for a long time now. I don't know how long becoming an angel will extend my life-span, but I'm not dying any time soon. Maybe I'd feel better if I did.

I thought I'd prepared myself for the possibility of it happening. I wasn't naïve, I **knew**__what might happen. It just didn't stop the pain of seeing the person you love more than you'd ever loved anyone leave for good.

At least it's easier for me than Mithos. He held it all together long enough to finally end this **stupid** war. Then he fell apart and nothing I did, nothing Kratos did, nothing Origin or the other Summon Spirits did helped even a little. He was broken. I was broken. We were all broken.

You'd expect this to drive us all closer together. Instead, the bond between Mithos and me, doubtful at best, shattered completely. Te only thing that stopped him from wanting to tear me apart was sheer grief. The only thing containing my own spite was pity.

We both pitied him to be honest. We couldn't help it. The respect he'd earned as a powerful warrior and summoner with a peaceful heart didn't seem to apply to this scared little boy who sobbed his heart out for hours on end.

I wasn't coping very well either. I broke down at the slightest thing. What was normally a racist insult too pathetic to register brought babyish tears to my eyes, and started Mithos howling in grief. Neither of us realised how much strain we were putting on our third companion, until on one such of these occasions he turned on the heckler in fury and left him with wounds that would take months to heal.

_Year 0100. In which a plan to resurrect Martel and Cruxis are formed._

We always knew Mithos was idealistic, but this is ridiculous. Now he thinks there is a way to raise the dead. You see, Martel died sacrificing her soul to the Kharlan Tree when it began to wither. Now, Mithos had come up with the brilliant idea of "Getting a vessel" to put her soul in. The craziest part of this screwed plan? I'm so desperate I'm willing to go along with it.

Kratos is agreeing to it as well, but I can't read his reasons even a little. I just know I'd be lost without him. It's weird, I thought I'd moved on from being a child, but I still depend on him, so many years later.

Mithos' plan involved splitting Sylvarant and Tethe'alla into two separate worlds, reversing the mana flow between them, creating a new religion that involved a human sacrifice, (I swear, if I hadn't grabbed his arm I think Kratos would've punched him in the face…), and using this religion to arrange marriages, creating a "Mana Lineage" that would create a vessel with a Mana Signature close enough to Martel's that she would accept it.

"NO WAY!" Snarled Kratos, ignoring the pleading look I threw him, "This is RIDICULOUS Mithos, do you seriously think that Martel would WANT you to KILL people for her?"

"We'd be SAVING them," Mithos argued, looking defiant, "There'd be too little mana to support magitechnology, NONE of those… Super Weapons would be able to hurt anyone ever again. No-one would ever lose a child, a sibling, a partner, a **parent**, ever again." This time it was me who slapped him. (No-one was watching at the time, so no-one held me back.) I couldn't **believe** he'd stoop so low. We both knew Kratos had lost his mother to a Super Weapon at the age of six, as well as seen how broken his father, uncle and grandparents had been because of it. It was low. It was cruel. It was effective.

The perfect plan really. Mithos got what he wanted, his sister. I got what I wanted, the person I loved more than life itself. Kratos got what he wanted, no more lethally powerful weapons that tore apart lives and families, and I think, part of it, was that deep down, he wanted our little family back. Mithos Martel, Kratos, Me. Not related by blood, except Mithos and Martel, but family all the same. I really missed that too. Our strange, patched-together, closer-than-ever, family of four.

_Year 0225. In which the First Chosen of Sylvarant begins their Journey_

It's taken us one hundred and twenty five years to get to this stage. Our first attempt at a vessel, and our first attempt a reversing the Mana Flow. After much debate, we decided that in order to keep the Chosen on the right track throughout the journey, either Kratos or myself would be sent along. Mithos refused to leave the seed.

It was Kratos' turn this time. I felt disconcerted when he left. I suppose I was just used to having him around. It was certainly lonely without him. Mithos didn't class as company very often these days.

He came back after the ritual. I'd missed it because I was busy reversing the Mana Flow. Namely because we'd realised I couldn't guide Chosen through their journeys because I was the only one who knew how to operate the magitechnology to reverse it.

He looked awful. His face was pale and he was shaking. I ran to his side, asking what was wrong. He opened his mouth to answer, and threw up.

I watched him sleep that night, feeling a wave of tenderness. Long before he'd equipped his Cruxis Crystal (Even with Rune Crests, I was beginning to notice that our emotions were becoming muted) he's been stoic, now it was rare to see any outward emotion from him. But he couldn't change the fact that he honestly cared about people, and realising he'd led a child to their death had really shocked him to the core.

_Year 1000. In which Yuan confronts or the First Time._

"This isn't good enough, people are DYING Mithos. I want Martel back too, but you can't go on like this. WE can't go on like this, Mithos! The elven race is getting wiped out; they can't survive on this meagre amount of Mana. Keep reversing the flow if you think it will prevent another war, but allow the levels to be within a smaller range than this, we're committing GENECIDE Mithos, that's what it's called if you wipe out an entire race. That's what will happen; they are getting KILLED because there isn't even enough Mana for them to SURVIVE!" I gazed desperately at my former friend, when did his hopeful eyes start looking so dead? When did he stop thinking that everyone deserved to live?

"Tough luck. Elves and their magic are wasting mana anyway." I froze. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.

"M-M-Mithos?" I whispered, trembling.

"You heard me. Why should I care for elves? They did not help us. They grudgingly offered us shelter, but did nothing to help us prove we are valid beings. Secretly looked down on us for having only half of their blood. They are as pathetic as humans." I was angry now, but there was nothing I could do. His mind was made up, and he knew that even if he refused my request, I wouldn't stop working for him. I wanted Martel too badly.

I ran to the area of the Tower that was our private living quarters. I ignored my own room, instead continuing down the halls to the library, guessing that Kratos would be in there.

Sure enough, he was curled on one of the chairs, reading something he'd brought back with him. It was amusing to watch. He gathered several books in one year and by now we had more than a hundred thousand of them, some that all other copies had been destroyed by Mithos.

It occurred to me that possibly the reason Kratos and I seemed to have retained more of our inner characters could be to do with the amount of personal interaction we had. Mithos reacted only on a business level, and had lost all his personality traits apart from his love for Martel and pride as a half-elf. I interacted as a close friend with Kratos, and occasionally left the Tower to mingle with townsfolk, I was basely the same, losing only some of the more obscure quirks of my nature. Kratos had day-in-day-out travelling companion relations with the Chosen Groups he travelled with, as well as me, and he had hardly changed at all, just become a little more stoic.

That was when I figured it out. Exspheres themselves couldn't change your personality. All they did was isolate you; it was the **isolation** that destroyed your personality.

"What's up?" He asked, giving me a small smile.

"He didn't listen!" I growled irritably. With a resigned sigh, Kratos marked his page, indicated the seat next to him and produced a pack of cards. Not needing sleep, it was around thirty six hours later that we ceased to play, feeling more alive for enjoying such a simple, natural pleasure as a game between friends.

_Year 2045. In which Mithos' Personality Develops in an Alarming Manner_

This time it was Kratos who felt the need to confront Mithos. The two of them argued for around six hours, until Mithos lost it.

"Shut up! SHUT UP! You don't care, do you? You couldn't care less that Martel needs us! You're too interested in those pathetic little humans!" Mithos screamed, hopping from one foot to the other in barely concealed anger.

"I'M human Mithos! What do you think you're doing? This isn't a GAME. WE'RE DESTROYING PEOPLE'S LIVES" Kratos roared in return, trembling from the effort of not flying at Mithos in a fury.

"SO THEIR LIVES MATTER MORE THAN MARTEL'S!" He howled, before seizing a ceramic jug and flinging it at the auburn haired seraphim.

We were both too startled to react, and the jug smashed on the side of his head, causing him to stumble and cry out in pain.

"We **will** continue with the Chosen ritual. I will get my sister back. Do you understand?" He hissed, his anger transforming him into his other form, Lord Yggdrasil.

We both met his gaze, feeling a blaze of hatred. Kratos hated him for his selfish destruction of people's lives. For me, that didn't hurt as much as knowing that now even my precious memories of Martel made me sick, because they were of a time when I **cared** about the monster in front of me.

I led Kratos to my room, got him to sit on the edge of the bed and bandaged up his head. It would have been easier for him to cast First Aid, but by now we both believed that doing things the natural way was what stopped us from becoming like Mithos. So I carefully cleaned and bound the cut, as the two of us talked quietly.

After a while he went to his room. Both of us tried to sleep that night. I don't know if he even found this relevant, but I for one was glad that I was still human enough to cry.

_Year 2987. In which Yuan discovers that Cracked Ribs are Painful._

Between us, we got pretty good at predicted and evading Mithos' enraged attacks. However it was a completely new kind of assault (So far he'd only ever thrown things, which was his favourite, or tried to use magic) when he followed me out into the hall and pushed me down the stairs.

I fell head first. I was aware of a sickening crack when I landed. (I may be an angel, but we are talking more than thirty flights of stairs here.) Then a yowl of pain which I think might have been me… Then I blacked out.

When I came to, I was lying in my bed, Kratos next to me, watching anxiously.

"What happened?" I asked, my curiosity getting better of all other impulses. (The next most dominant being asking him to knock me out to give whatever was wrong with my torso more time to recover.)

"Mithos pushed you down the stairs. You've managed to crack five ribs at once. Congratulations, I think that may be a record for The Most Ribs Cracked While Falling Down Stairs." I laughed, most people didn't realise it, well, it is true that his tone didn't change even a little, but now that I was used to his sense of humour I appreciated it.

"He's getting touchy. This time all I said was: 'Maybe you won't feel so sick if you go outside for a little while. You can seal the room so no-one can get to the seed.' The he screamed at me to get out, so I did and he shoved me." I could see him fighting an urge to snarl, his personality was still intact to the point that he hated me getting hurt more than getting hurt himself.

"Here." He said, somewhat abruptly, turning his head so I couldn't see his face, "It's been a long time since you've done any of your tinkering. Might as well, otherwise you'll get bored. I have to leave for Tethe'alla tomorrow, and if I find out that you got out of bed this week…" By now his tone had gained a warning note and he turned to glare at me to get his point across.

I could feel the flush of delight consuming my face at the thoughtful gesture and I grinned back at him. Unable to resist smiling back, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he reached out to ruffle my hair.

"Be a good boy and play nicely while I'm gone." He teased, before leaving me where I was and going off on his much-hated duty.

_Year 3078. In which Yuan is glad that Angels with Rune Crests can feel Warmth._

"I'm home." He called softly, peering around my door. I leapt up and pulled him in properly, hugging him tightly.

"Welcome Home." I mumbled, burying my face in his shoulder, as he tightened his grip on me.

The habit of hugging each other had come about shortly after Mithos pushed me down the stairs. On that journey, a **stupid** Desian had made the mistake of revealing that Kratos was someone he had to obey, and the Chosen and his group had turned on him in fury, injuring him badly. The only thing Mithos had cared about was that the Chosen might have been put off his journey, so he was fine. I realised that I was scared out of my wits at the thought that I might lose Kratos.

I **needed **him. Even though I'd promised myself when Martel died that I'd stop caring about losing people, I cared about **him** so much that it hurt.

That was the first time he ever said "home" about this place. I was too choked up to talk; I just ran over and hugged him tightly. Afterwards he remarked that he'd noticed it when he carried me to my room from the bottom of the stairs, (ouch), and confirmed it now. We still gave of heat. It was a bit of a triumph actually, that's normally the first thing to go after becoming an angel. (What you lose next depends on the person, until we got it under control Kratos lost his voice, eating and sleeping, I lost sleeping, physical sensations and eating, Mithos lost his eating and sleeping. I reckon that children are less vulnerable to it, so he transformed more slowly than we did and that's why it's possible to control the transformation if the Chosen is young)

After that, we started to hold each other a lot. The warmth was comforting and somehow, the action made me happy.

"I'm happy that you're home. I missed you." I told him shyly, blushing because it sounded kind of soppy.

"I missed you too." He said with a slight laugh, before ducking his head slightly to kiss my forehead.

I felt a lingering hot spot for a long time afterwards, long after the vivid scarlet faded from my face and my heart rate returned to normal.

I was glad I could still feel heat. It made the simple action last much, much longer.

_Year 3443. In which Yuan discovers that even Kratos gets Scared._

I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about my relationship with Kratos.

When we were little kids, he was like the world's best big brother. He showed me how to do stuff, pretended to lose at board games and picked me up when I fell down. Then he became my partner. We fought side by side, working with Mithos and Martel but still a team of our own and I never had worry about what would happen if I tripped or got injured because I knew he'd be beside me in an instant. When Cruxis was formed, he was my support, the only thing that kept me hanging in there when I wanted to give up and die. Now, I didn't know what we were. We held each other tight, occasionally exchanged the gesture I'd assumed would be a one-off.

I was musing through all this when I heard a cry from a few rooms away, I raced toward the source of the noise, clutching my Swallow and frantically cursing whichever idiot was responsible for the need to keep still while casting spells. I flung the door open and was surprised to find my friend alone in the room.

I was beginning to wonder if I'd imagined it when he yelled a second time, trying to kick out but his legs were tangled in his cover. That made sense; he really hated to be trapped. Once he got locked in a cell for a week. He went berserk and smashed the place up.

I darted across to him and put my hand on his shoulder to wake him. His eyes flew open instantly, wild and suspicious. I guess it was a pretty bad nightmare. I silently untangled him, resisting the urge to speak so he could have time to calm down. When I was done I sat on the edge of the bed, regarding him with concern. He sat up and dragged me close to him, burying his face in my hair and shaking. I swung round, moving to an angle where I could hold him in return.

We eventually dozed off like that, curled together like small children. I don't know how it happened, but we'd definitely changed. I could feel it. I just couldn't identify it.

No. That's a lie. The truth is I'd known for a long time what was happening. I was just reluctant to admit it.

_Year 3993. In which Kratos finds a place where he can Relax._

"You've been going out a lot recently. Where d'you keep on going?" I asked, head tilted curiously.

"Just to Luin. I feel very relaxed there. Especially when I help out the locals." I was surprised. He rarely made contact with people voluntarily. It wasn't a Chosen ritual, although I think the next chosen of Sylvarant was due to be born in a few years.

I felt jealous, I'll admit it. For nearly four thousand years I'd been his only friend. I didn't appreciate sharing him. I wasn't upset by it though.

After all, I knew that I was special to him. We were always together in the Tower unless there was a Chosen Ritual. A few times we snuck out together, enjoying the sensation of freedom. We gave up on trying to separate by night, we both got nightmares too frequently, and we needed someone who could wake us up otherwise we'd give up on sleeping entirely. Trust me, they might not need it, but an angel that isn't sleeping isn't **half** cranky. Case in point, Mithos. So there wasn't any comparison. We were best friends, I didn't have to worry.

_Year 3995. In which Yuan is Abandoned._

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. I didn't say anything. I knew I should be happy. I should tell him I was glad he got out. I should tell him that I know he'll manage to rescue her. I just can't.

Even if no-one else can hear it, my heart just shattered. It was inevitable really. I should have seen the signs. The feeling of needing him, caring about him more than anyone else, enjoying being close to him, holding him. Why didn't I realise I was falling in love with him? Why didn't I **admit** I was falling in love with him?

I guess I thought it wasn't important to admit. I mean it. I thought we'd be **together**. I thought things wouldn't change. So now, I'd lost out.

He held me one last time, pressing his face against my hair.

I waited until he left. Then I climbed up, to the library. Where I went to find him when I needed him. Then I curled up on the chair and cried.

_Year 4000. In which A Certain Red-Haired Seraphim comes Home once again._

I thought I was over this. I thought I cared about myself enough to harden my heart, but when push became shove I cared about him more. Once I saw him broken like that all I wanted was to protect him. I carried him all the way back to the tower, settling in his room. Eventually he fell asleep.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, watching his agonised expression even as he slept and the way he'd curled into a tiny ball to protect himself. Even sleeping, grief radiated off him. He'd staked everything he had to sustain the tiny family he'd found, and lost it all.

It was several weeks later that Mithos started to get impatient. I knew why. The chosen of Sylvarant was already two years old and Tethe'alla had been flourishing too long. Mithos couldn't afford this Chosen's journey to take too long and he was worried that Kratos wouldn't be able to do it.

It was terrifying. He'd changed from stoic to emotionless. He was losing his humanity (I always hated that word. Who says elves, dwarves, half-bloods, etc. can't be "humane") fast. It was going further than a Chosen Ritual. He couldn't eat, sleep, feel, speak, he could barely move, he'd lost his sense of self-preservation **completely**.

I mean that. When Mithos hurled an Explosion spell at him he just stood there, unflinching, as it scorched his flesh, hair and clothes. He didn't even turn to look at Mithos. To this day, I think he didn't even realise he had been hit.

He was getting better though. I'd go in and talk to him. At first, he would just sit and stare at me. After about six weeks he seemed to remember me and started to talk back, but his voice was still completely flat. As the months passed he'd became steadily more alert.

_Year 4008. In which Mithos Reveals a Secret, Proving that he Pays Attention._

"This is ridiculous; he's still robotic **eight years later**. How pathetic can you get? There was nothing special about them, it was just some stupid, boring, freaky little human and some mutant, half-angelic, stupid little kid. I can't **believe** he could actually **care** about those creatures." Mithos finished his sneering tirade. I. Was. **Incandescent**. This time I really, **really** couldn't keep my mouth shut, even though I knew Mithos was going to make me regret speaking my mind.

"You, Mithos Yggdrasil, are a whiny, demanding, spoilt, dependent, psychopathic, emotionless **brat**! Not to mention HYPOCRITICAL. "Eight years later" you said. "Ridiculous" you called it. TAKE A LOOK AT YOURSELF. This is FOUR THOUSAND years later Mithos. If eight years is RIDICULOUS then THIS must be positively LUDICROUS and PREPOSTEROUS and ANY OTHER SYNONYM YOU'LL FIND IN A THESAURUS! WHO THE NIFLHEIM[1] DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SNEER AT HIM, YOU'RE WORSE! Why do you keep on doing this? We used to be friends, we would have stood by you, but you chose to push us away. You say you're doing all this so you don't have to be alone anymore, we wouldn't have left you alone. But now, who'd want to be with you? You're psychotic. Your company sucks. We didn't try to leave you out; you didn't give us any other option." Okay, this was weird. He didn't look mad, he looked… triumphant.

Somehow that one look was all it took, I knew this time, and whatever he did was going to leave a scar that would never heal. I tried to brace myself, still fool enough to expect physical attack.

"Well well, look who's talking," He began, his voice smooth as silk, building a rise of anticipation in my throat, "Don't you think you're being a little unreasonable Yuan?" He gave a little laugh, "After all, you make it sound like the two of you are **so loyal**." Something about the cheerful, sweet voice, so similar to his **real **voice, the one he had when we first met him, hurt much more than him screaming, "When really **both** of you are a pair of **traitors**." Shit. I was scared. I felt like his was about to tear down all my protective barriers, "You more than Kratos. Sure, he didn't want to be involved, but he did it anyway, he even left but he came back. You've betrayed Martel." This I didn't expect. I was expected a rush of pain, for some reason I just feel angry.

"She **loved **you Yuan." What the? Was he actually **crying**? "I hated to admit it, but she really did. And you let her down Yuan." Now I was confused…

"You think I can't tell? An **idiot** could see that you're head over heels in love with Kratos! Ask yourself Yuan, why do **really** stay here in the Tower? You don't think what I'm doing is right or even acceptable. Why didn't you just go? Because you couldn't bear the thought of being alone. Why do you feel the need to defend the sorry state he's in? Why did you fall apart when he left? You. Are. In. Love. With. KRATOS!"

There was a small cough from the side. Mithos and I both spun round. Shit. Kratos was stood in the doorway. He didn't look mad or scared or even unhappy, he was just completely confused. Still, I was frantic enough for five people let alone a couple.

My first impulse was to head for the door, but once I'd grasped the handle I realised it would be quicker if I flew out of the window. I changed direction, letting go of the handle a little too late. I heard a yelp of pain from Mithos. Oh, I think I just threw a door at him…

I heard panicked yelps from behind me, possibly the fact I'd just jumped out of a window that was a few hundred floors up. (For some reason the one part of being an angel that no-one else got used to was the fact that you can jump great heights and live.)

I flew for miles. I didn't have to worry about being caught. Each angel has an individual talent, Kratos was excessively strong, Mithos mastered more of the magic and I was the fastest flyer. I don't know why, I wasn't the fastest runner. I **was** the strongest swimmer… I don't think the two things are related though…

I eventually landed in Exire. There were two half-elves playing outside a small house. The younger of the two was a girl of around six, or maybe seven whereas the older I recognised as a young adult named Botta.

Once the little girl (His sister? Or maybe even his daughter although I don't think he was married…) had gone inside he approached me. I knew why. Gradually I had formed a friendship with the young half-elf. He was one of the few that knew I was an angel.

That night we talked for hours. By the end of it I was beginning to formulate a plan.

_Year 4009. In which Yuan is Forced to go Home._

In one short year the Renegades had started with surprising ease. A lot of half-elves who where sick of being discriminated against but unwilling to become Desians were eager to join. We were always careful to guard against spies. Actually, we had a really mixed crew… a conglomerate of humans, elves, half-bloods and even dwarves.

One of our most important members was our medic. Doctor Archimedes Socrates Theophilious Hack was undeniably brilliant. He was also frighteningly potent at psychological manipulation. Basically he used a mixture of Reverse Psychology and Emotional Blackmail to convince me to return to Cruxis. So I don't have a death wish. Just an evil doctor. (Hey… Doc Hack… I'm sure that was familiar to something I heard of when I was a child…)

Mithos, surprisingly, acted pleased to see me. I didn't realise he could still contain emotions. Or fake them. I guess he just didn't want me to run off. It was only five years until the Chosen's journey began.

I avoided Kratos. It seemed easiest for both of us. He'd made it plain where his heart lay and I didn't want to be near him. I couldn't stand knowing that we'd lost our old closeness.

I was starting to tire easily. It was hard, running the Renegades, trying to convince Mithos I was loyal, finding useful information, avoiding Kratos… But I managed. I knew what I was doing. I just had to do it.

_Year 4014. In which the Chosen of Sylvarant begins her Journey and Yuan meets Lloyd._

The Renegades' plans weren't moving fast enough. If this Chosen were to reach the end of her journey, we lost. Still, we did have a Trump Card. If we could play our cards right, perhaps even the Ace of Trumps.

My hope's were confirmed when I met Lloyd. Mana literally rolled off that kid, and his exsphere was always giving off powerful signals even when it was dormant.

When you equip an exsphere, it does matter who created the sphere. You see, if it's someone who **disliked** you then you get a very small amount of power from the exsphere. That's why the exspheres that Desians use aren't very powerful. Everyone in Cruxis was gifted their exspheres by the dwarves, back when we first started trying to end the war. The people who created our exspheres had no idea who we were, but they supported our cause. We get a high amount of power.

Lloyd's exsphere comes from his mother. She loves him than anything else in the world. His exsphere **pours** power into him. It was obvious that it was evolving into a Cruxis Crystal and fast, faster than I'd ever seen.

I also found my brief encounter with Lloyd unsettling. There was a strong resemblance to Kratos, but I'd say he had more of Anna in him. I remembered the eyes in particular. Mainly because behind their warm, brown colour I could see a blaze of determination and slightly obsessive protectiveness. One that I grew up with.

Sadly, for all his power it was obvious the kid didn't want to help us. Which kinda sucked, because even the Eternal Sword couldn't finish Mithos? The only thing that could do that was for someone to fight him. In his true form. And win. I don't think I can do that. I could never send any of the Renegades off to try.

After Botta reported what happened while Doc I thought long and hard about what my next move should be. After a plan formed in my mind I collared a passing soldier and told him to fetch my Heads of Department.

I gazed at the assembled crowd: Botta, my second in command, an indemonstrable male half elf who was loyal to the core, Doc, our medic, frail and elderly but with eyes (and a will) like diamond, Hex, our mechanic, a skinny human boy a couple of years older than the Chosen who we recruited after he aided the building of the steamship; Isabella, Maya, our head of espionage, who was scaring everyone by sitting through the meeting looking exactly like Forcystus and Gracie, Botta's little sister who wasn't **actually** a Renegade but showed up at all meetings and, according to Doc, was "The Person In Charge Of Maintaining Yuan's Sanity."

Which **is** true. I'd go nuts if that little girl didn't make me take a break to play "Pussydog" with her. The game's best if you have tons of people, but after playing it once, most people run away screaming when asked.

It was arranged that we'd wait until the Chosen was actually in the Tower, allow the Group to learn the true nature of the Ritual, **and then** rescue the Chosen. A perfect plan. This failed.

_Year 4015. In which Everyone decides What To Do Next._

I was slumped in a chair in my office, completely exhausted by it all. It was finally over. The worlds had rejoined, the tree had sprouted and since Botta, no-one else had died. Well, as far as I knew. I couldn't feel happy about it though. I was wiped.

"Yu-annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! You gotta VIS-EE-TORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Gracie yelled, banging on my door.

"You can come in, my door's unlocked." I replied, too tired to get up. I glanced at the "vis-ee-tor" (I had to give that girl a hand. She was having trouble pronouncing words with three or more syllables without splitting them up…) and promptly fell out of my chair. I heard a deep chuckle as I was hauled to my feet.

"I guess you still have bad balance when you're startled." I just scowled, annoyed at being caught off guard.

"Well? I'm willing to assume you came here for a reason?" I made sure to use my most formal voice.

"I came to say goodbye." I froze up. While he was explaining his screwed-up logic my mind was racing.

They always say "If you love someone you should let them go." And I **did**. When it counted. But I **really **didn't think this was an occasion when that applied.

"What kind of father are you?" I demanded, cutting him off mid-sentence, "He's waited for **fourteen years** to find you again, you've been **missing** him for fourteen years? Why do you always think you don't deserve stuff? Why don't you just **accept** when you're lucky? Why would you **want **to leave Lloyd? And why… Why do you want to leave **me**? We've been friends for four thousand years! How can you just say you want to leave forever? Even you would get lonely up there Kratos! You can't do this. If you're leaving, dammit, then I'll… I'll…" I trailed off, turning my head so he couldn't see that I was about to cry.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, dragging me close the way he had that night, five hundred and seventy two years ago.

"Don't." I snapped. "I've had enough, okay? I lost Martel. I lost Mithos. The **one** person I thought I could count on was you. But I lost you too. And that's fine. I'm strong. I can take it. But you know what? THAT'S MY EFFING LIMIT! SO DON'T APOLOGISE BEFORE YOU GO BECAUSE _**THAT**_IS ONE STRIKE TOO MANY AND **I CAN'T TAKE IT**!" It must have hurt. He hadn't let go of me while I yelled, with angelic hearing the sheer volume must have been almost unbearable.

"Where else would I go?" He asked me softly, "I haven't got any other home, Yuan. Derris Kharlan is all I've got left. Lloyd **has **a father. He doesn't need me. I made my choice and it was the wrong one. I chose Mithos because I was too weak to say no. But that was **my wrong choice**. So it's all right for it to end, like this."

"What's wrong with here?" He looked surprised, "I mean it. Right here. When we were on Derris Kharlan, the place you called home was my room. My room, is this room."

"Yuan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm… home." He whispered, shyly.

"Welcome Home!" I couldn't stop laughing. I was happy. "Welcome Home."

_Year 4020. In which Our Story Comes to an End._

"Remind why I'm doing this?" Kratos muttered, burying his head in my shoulder.

"Because Lloyd is your son. You love him very much and he has a right to know the truth." He grimaced, but I knew he'd go through with it. I kissed his cheek before letting go of his hand. We'd agreed it would e best not to let our actions do the talking.

"Dad!" Lloyd greeted happily. As usual, even though they all had their own lives to live, Zelos had his sleeping bag set up on the couch, Raine and Genis had obviously been there a few days, Regal and Presea were carrying suitcases, I don't think Sheena had left since she arrived three years ago and Colette, as clumsy as ever, had "borrowed" Lloyd's clothes again.

"Uh, Lloyd… I know it's unexpected but I have something to tell you." Kratos began, flushing slightly. Raine, always the most perceptive, looked directly at me, amused. I smirked back.

"Well, you better tell us all, we're family here Tall, Red and Grumpy!" Zelos teased waving his piece of toast in the air. Kratos glared across the room and Zelos hid under the sofa. With difficulty.

"I'm, well, you see, that is to say, um, in simple terms, er, to put things bluntly…" I watched him stammer for a while longer before taking pity on him.

"Your father and I have been dating for a few years now. We weren't really sure what was going to happen at first, but as we're both sure we want to stay together, we thought you should know." I felt calm. After the nightmare of telling the Renegades (Gracie cried because she thought I wouldn't play with her any more. Doc screamed that I was far too young (even though I'm thousands of years older than him) Hex ran out of the room because he felt embarrassed (he's shy) and Maya smiled and told Kratos that if he broke my heart she'd break every bone in his body, shove him in a sack and tie him to the top of the Tower of Lightning.) There was no reaction these guys could come out with that would startle me.

Except Lloyd's. Everyone else expressed surprise but pleasure, so they all obviously approved. Lloyd just looked at us, surprised and said:

"Oh, I knew **that**. Presea guessed right from the start you guys were living together because you were going out. And when I watched the way you guys acted, it was obvious." **That** confused me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, tilting my head. It's a really weird habit. I know I'm doing it but I can't seem to stop.

"This is my Dad. He smiles, like, once in a blue moon, but he **always** smiles when he looks at you." Wow, that was… Simple, yet clever.

Presea looked at us with her solemn blue eyes.

"I didn't know for certain when you would become a couple. I just knew you would. It was…" She paused, unable to find the right word. I grinned, and supplied her with the word I'd applied to the situation all along.

"Inevitable."

A/N: Oh, sweet-holy-mother-of-Origin. That took me a WEEK to write. I'm sorry it took so long, I kept getting stuck or interrupted. I wonder if anyone recognised that the _In which… parts are based on the way they name chapters in Winnie The Pooh? I hope everyone enjoyed it, even thought it's so long._


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